


Twisted

by Jejunus (JejuneSins)



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Blood and Violence, Bodyswap, Domestic Violence, F/M, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 18:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18665932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JejuneSins/pseuds/Jejunus
Summary: During her second visit to Zion, Joan wakes up one morning to find that something feels a little different—her flesh is scarred and burnt, and she’s masked from head to toe with bandages. Sitting across from her is Joshua Graham; only now he looks exactly like she does, and he is none too pleased about it.Joan decides to take advantage of the situation, or, as they would say in the Legion: carpe diem.This was originally written as a prompt for Kinktober (Body Swap) and was included with several other drabbles, but I enjoyed this one enough that I deleted the other post (which I was never going to finish, unfortunately) and decided to clean this up and post it on its own.





	Twisted

Twisted

_I'm uncontrollable, emotional, chaotically proportional; I'm visceral, reloadable_

_(I'm crazy, I'm crazy, I'm crazy, I'm crazy)_

 

        Joan stirred, sensing the first light of dawn warming her back. Reaching out, she swept her fingers across the ground behind her before pausing—her hand ached and burned. She immediately jerked her hand to her face to inspect it.

        Her fingers—crisp and sharp in her vision—were bound with pristine white bandages up to the second knuckle, the exposed tips blackened and calloused with scarred flesh. She blinked rapidly.

        “What on earth—”

        A voice behind her interrupted her thoughts and she rolled over.

        Sitting up from her sleeping bag was... herself? She stared wide-eyed at the Joan that was not herself as she sat on the sandy ground, staring down at her hands with her mouth open. Her dark eyes were squinted; Joan noticed her glasses lying on the ground beside her. She instinctively reached out for them before noticing her bandaged forearm and gasping.

        “What the fuck—” she shrieked; only it wasn’t a shriek, it was Joshua Graham’s voice, still thick with sleep, heavy and rumbling in her chest. She frantically patted down her arms and chest; the material of Joshua’s SLCPD vest was rough under her fingers. Her hands thrummed with dull, constant pain.

        “ _What on earth have you done_?”

        She jerked her eyes back up. The other Joan was staring at her. Had her eyes always been so piercing?

        “Joshua?” she whispered. The other Joan narrowed her eyes.

        “I don’t know _how_ you did this—”

        “I didn’t do anything!” Joan pressed her lips together—which also elicited a sharp stab of pain—as she realized how much more authoritative her words sounded coming from Joshua’s throat. She didn’t have long to contemplate this—Joshua stood from her sleeping bag and charged forward, seizing her arm. He gave it a sharp tug and Joan looked down at his hand—her own hand, small and thin and pale—as it yanked ineffectively at her sleeve. It didn’t bother Joan any more than if an insect had landed on her. She glanced up at Joshua and saw confusion on his face, and then briefly, nearly undetectably; a hint of alarm.

        Something deep within Joan seemed to spark and she narrowed her eyes vindictively at him.

        “Ha… I don’t think so.” As if it possessed a will of its own, her bandaged and burnt hand shot out, seizing his. Joshua immediately wrenched his arm back but it barely managed to budge in Joan’s grip. Swiftly Joan stood up from the lean-to she had been sleeping in. She wobbled for a moment—her vantage point was so much taller than she was used to!—before steadying herself. Joshua’s small hand was still firmly clenched in her own as she immediately set off for the Angel Cave, dragging him behind her with no more effort than if she were hefting a sack of flour.

        “What are you doing?” Her own voice came from Joshua’s throat in a shrill hiss. Did she always sound so girlish, so whiny? Joan pushed the thought away as she continued to make her way to Joshua’s chamber. Joshua could barely match her long stride, tripping over his feet in his effort to keep up.

        “I can hardly even see anything,” Joshua growled, still jerking and thrashing his arm.

        “ _Sorry_ ,” Joan replied callously. Finally they arrived in the chamber. Joan didn’t waste any time—she spun around and slammed her palms against the wall of the cave, trapping Joshua between them. The back of his head struck the wall and bounced off, pain and anger flashing across his thin face as he looked up at her.

        “What are you—”

        He was cut off by Joan pressing against him and mashing him into the wall. She gritted her teeth; the front of her jeans was straining uncomfortably against a brand new and unfamiliar part of her body. Joshua stiffened in her arms.

        “ _You cannot possibly_ —” He was cut off again by Joan grinding into him, hissing with the growing friction in her trousers.

        “ _My God_ , this is amazing,” she breathed, immediately wanting more. She pushed back from the wall and frantically scraped at her belt buckle, struggling to unlatch it. Joshua tried to duck out of her arms, but she grabbed him by the elbow; he let out a strangled grunt of pain and Joan glanced up at him as the buckle finally swung forward. She laughed, and it came out far more derisively than she had intended.

        “You’re so much stronger than I am—I almost can’t believe how easy this is.”

        For a moment there was that nearly imperceptible flash of panic on his face. Like a mongrel that had scented fresh meat, Joan lunged at him with renewed fervor. She tore apart the panels of her suit jacket, sending the delicate buttons scattering across the stone floor. Joshua was fighting back against her but she barely noticed him—next flew open her white dress shirt, the tie carelessly flung over her shoulder after it. She hesitated for only a moment at the skirt before deciding that it wasn’t worth the effort. She seized Joshua’s upper arm and dragged him away from the wall, his tense noises of dissent falling on uncaring ears. With barely a fraction of the force that she was capable of, she flicked her wrist; Joshua was sent careening away from her, crashing onto the floor of the cave before scrambling to right himself.

        While he was occupied, she turned back to herself. In a moment she had unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, freeing the cock that had been painfully squeezing against the fly. She hesitated as a flash of guilt chewed at her before she glanced up again—Joshua was hauling himself up from the floor, squinting at her with unbridled hatred and fury. He darted to his work table and Joan’s eyes widened with panic—there was still a nest of pistols littered on top of it.

        In an instant she closed the gap, albeit clumsily—the work table upended, scattering pistols and boxes of ammunition across the floor as the oil lamp shattered and extinguished, casting the cave into gloomy darkness. Joshua was still clawing out for one of the guns when Joan seized his tiny wrists, dragging him away from the mess and back across the room. He was bucking and writhing in her grip, and she briefly wondered if he had fought so intensely when Caesar had him cast off the edge of the Grand Canyon.

        She shoved him to the ground again, only this time she tumbled down after him, pinning one arm behind his back. He was face down on the floor and Joan didn’t waste any more time: she pushed up his skirt in a sharp movement as Joshua hitched and writhed beneath her. She smirked at him, a curious savage glee expanding in her chest.

        “I heard you were too proud to scream as you went falling down into the Grand Canyon—I wonder if you will for _me_.”

        At the sound of her own voice her cock twitched, growing much harder than it had been previously. She mashed her hips into his ass which was bare, save for the familiar grey undergarments covering her. She decided then that men had much more satisfying anatomy than women did—she had plenty of experience touching herself, but it was never so immediately rewarding as the desire that was currently flooding her groin.

        Joshua seemed to be spiting her; he was lying beneath her as silent and stiff as a tree, glaring at the floor of the cave. For an instant her own eyes looked completely alien to her, and all she could see was Joshua Graham.

        She drew back just enough to jerk Joshua over, rolling him onto his back instead. Parting his thighs with her knee, she trapped his wrists on floor with her palms, staring hungrily down at him. It was strange, looking at herself in this way—she was so thin, so small, and she certainly never _felt_ as weak as she looked—but it was intoxicating to look into her eyes. So much of him seemed to be trapped there, especially with the pure rage that glittered within, like burning embers.

        “Look at me,” she commanded before stifling another groan. Just hearing herself talk was liable to send her over the edge if she wasn’t careful. Joshua obstinately looked the other way.

        “You don’t want to play along? That’s fine,” she said, wickedly inspired.

        Who knew her better than herself?

        She released one of his wrists before trapping it under her other hand—she didn’t trust him to not rake at her face, which already stung and ached enough as it was—before sliding her hand down his body. Joshua violently twisted his face away as her hand came between his legs, stroking herself just as she would if she were alone, thinking about him.

        “I know how good this feels,” she murmured. It did indeed feel good—she wanted to torment him some more, but the tension in her groin was veering madly toward crescendo. She didn’t trust herself not to come right then and there, splattering all over her small, stock-still self on the floor. The thought alone nearly caused her to lose control, and she breathed in deeply, trying to slow down and contain herself; as much as she wanted to drag a reaction out of him, she was more concerned with making the best use of her time. She pushed aside the gusset of Joshua’s underwear.

        She paused a moment to figure out how to arranger herself properly to enter him. In the end she hefted up his hips, seemingly weightless with the increased strength she now possessed. She grasped herself, and for the first time Joshua began to breathe heavily. She glanced up at him and smiled, despite the bandages rendering it invisible and the fact that his cold eyes were staring determinedly at the ceiling, ignoring her. Operating more on instinct than thought, she ran the head of her cock against him, causing him to twitch and shiver. Her eyes narrowed with pleasure; he couldn’t totally mask what he felt, despite his best efforts.

        “You’re a lot easier to read without your face covered,” she said, slowly pushing into him. His back arched and his wrists jerked under her hand. Still he remained obstinately silent. That was fine with her—the moment she was inside him, all rational thought fled her mind and she was seized with a single-minded compulsion to _keep moving_ , to do anything to relive that sensation when she first entered—almost searingly hot, slick, and as tight as a vice. Her breath shuddered in her chest as she began to thrust. _This is better than any chem or drink_ , she thought deliriously. Not just the sensation overwhelming her cock—although that was spectacular too—but the power of it: her fingers digging into his hip, dimpling the pale flesh; restraining him with one hand as though he were nothing but a child; to be doing _what_ she wanted, _how_ she wanted, with no care in the world for how he felt. If anything, his revulsion and derision made the fire within her spread even further, licking at her thighs, her stomach, her hands. She was in _complete_ control, it occurred to her with malevolent satisfaction; not just her mind inhabiting his body, but also _Joshua Graham_ : his cock, his hands, his burns, his scars, his everything. She jerked her hand up to his chin and twisted his face to meet hers.

        “Does it feel strange to look at yourself like this?” she asked, her eyes bright. Her voice was keen and sharp as her fingers dug into his narrow cheek with enough force that Joshua winced. He glared at her and she found his hatred delightful as her hips slapped loudly against his.

        “I’m sure you won’t answer me,” she rushed on. Already she could feel a strange sensation in her cock, almost like having to relieve herself, but different somehow, significantly more intense. “But I can make an educated guess, can’t I? If this ever reverses, are you going to be able to look yourself in the mirror again? Or has Caesar already done that to you?”

        She recoiled; Joshua had spat in her face, with enough force that flecks of spittle hit her in the eyes. Her grip on his chin tensed with enough force that he squealed with pain.

        “ _Fuck_ ,” she hissed. She released his cheek and jerked backward, pulling out of him. He had just started to scramble away when she seized his arm again; he grunted as she rolled him over onto his stomach, pinning his arm behind his back in a cruel bend. She bore down on it as she rearranged herself before pushing into him once more and fucking him, much harder than she had been before. The muscles in her thighs jerked and twitched; she was dangerously close to coming, but not quite there.

        Impulsively she reached up and knotted her fist into Joshua’s dark hair, craning his head backward and forcing his back into an arch. She groaned, frustration sparking in her stomach.

        “ _Come on_ ,” she growled, Joshua’s voice dark and guttural as she yanked his skull back as far as she could. “Give me something, make some kind of fucking noise.”

        The most he gave her was a tense gurgle from his pale throat, stretched taut. The urge to savagely smash his head into the jagged rocks of the cave floor flashed across her mind for a frenzied moment, but she restrained herself, if just barely. She settled for releasing his hair, and his head fell sharply forward as she instead focused on ramming into him. _Fine_ , she thought, her eyes narrowing into furious slits between the bandages on her face. She bore down on the arm pinned behind his back as she continued viciously thrusting into him. He felt wetter than he had before—she glanced down and caught a glimpse of red between their bodies, staining the pale garments at the base of her cock. She groaned again, the noise coming out in a dark wild laugh as she pressed even harder against his arm.

        Everything seemed to happen all at once—beneath her palm was a sharp snap and Joshua finally screamed; she smashed her hips into him and abruptly she was coming, her eyes rolling to the ceiling of the cave as she cried out herself, her voice thick and deep.

        She blinked.

        Her face was against the rough floor of the cave, her cheek stinging and gritty with dirt. Abruptly everything seemed to awaken at once and she shrieked—something was horrifically wrong with her left arm. She tried to roll over but something heavy was on top of her and she cried out again, lightheaded and nauseous. A fiery, ripping pain was erupting between her thighs to compete with the agony in her arm. Tears of pain immediately welled in her eyes and streaked down her face, muddling her already blurry vision.

        “Wh-what’s happening!” she cried as she tried to pull herself to her palms again; she had barely managed to lift herself when her broken arm was violently seized and she was rolled onto her back. She started to scream, but was cut off as a bandaged hand slammed her throat to the ground, pinning her. Rasping and choking, her eyes shot open wide—Joshua Graham was inches from her face, his blue eyes bright with rage.

        “ **You had better pray that God has more mercy on you than _I_ will**.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading!
> 
> Title song is Twisted - MISSIO


End file.
